chunniwritesalot

[chunniwritesalot]

im writing... stay tuned

[chunniwritesalot]

ARUGHGHF)JEWOIFHGJREHGF:OIERHWGJ{PEIJF{inaerjof

[chunniwritesalot]

max is getting absolutely KISSED on the lips 😍

[chunniwritesalot]

amen me!

"Don’t post politics!" NO. Post them. Raise your voice. Exercise your right to question, to challenge, to speak up. Awareness is our weapon, our shield against the injustices we face and the oppression that threatens to come. Use your voice to shine a light, to resist, to remind those in power that we see, we hear, and we refuse to be silenced.

[chunniwritesalot]

voting for the first time is lowk such a core memory

[chunniwritesalot]

WE NEED PART FIVE OF MRS ALONSO PLEASE 🥲

sorryyyyy unless someone wants to make the posts and tweets i can’t promise anything! uni is my top priority but i can write small blurbs or smaus

[chunniwritesalot]

When will part 5 of Mrs Alonso be out?

i have it sitting in my drafts tbh it’ll be out by the end of this year 😭 that’s all i can promise

[chunniwritesalot]

hi everyoneee i have 12 requests in my inbox but unfortunately many of them are smut!! please read my guidelines before requesting, they are located in my navigation post which is pinned :)

[chunniwritesalot]

i drove all the way down to see travis at metlife… CHILLS OH MY GOD!!! he’s such an amazing performer! i saw him last year as well literally amazinggg. and my seats were actually pretty good!

[chunniwritesalot]

max smut 😳😁

hiii thanks for the ask but i don’t write smut 😭 feel free to request anything else 💕

[chunniwritesalot]

lessons with the hamiltons - lh44

in which reader is a teacher, but hates kids

HIII OKAY THIS IS JUST A SILLY LITTLE THING I STARTED AND THEN I COULDN'T STOP WRITING LMAO!! i might make a part 2 if someone asks! dont mind the no lewis header i have no time to make one hahah

cw: ksi's new song mentioned, cursing maybeeee, lewis being a bighead

wc: many

“I hate kids.” You huffed as you walked into the apartment you shared with your husband, kicking off your shoes with an aggressive thud. “Hate, hate, hate them.”

It was ironic, of course. Being a teacher meant you were surrounded by children all day, one of the few jobs where you were supposed to like them—or at least tolerate them. Good thing you were also an amazing actor, masking your exhaustion with a smile every time you stepped into that classroom.

Lewis looked up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow. “You’re a teacher,” he said, as if reminding you of the obvious. “You’re literally paid to not hate them.”

You rolled your eyes, tossing your bag onto the floor before flopping onto the couch beside him. “Yeah, yeah, thanks for the revelation, Captain Obvious. Match my freak for once, would you?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What does that even mean? Is that… new slang or something?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious but clearly out of his depth with your words.

“Yup, some of the kids started saying it,” you replied with a sigh, running your hands through your hair. “I guess I picked up on it without thinking.”

Lewis chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You teach 12 year olds. Doesn’t it freak you out a little to be adopting their slang?”

“Nah,” you said, leaning your head against his chest as he wrapped an arm around you. His warmth and the familiar scent of him—a mix of cologne and home—started to ease the tension you had carried through the door. “What freaks me out is how much I despise them today.”

He smiled at your melodramatic groan, rubbing small circles on your back. “What happened this time?”

“Everything. The noise, the constant whining, the way they somehow always know how to get under my skin. It's like they have a radar for it.” You shut your eyes, sinking deeper into the couch. “It’s exhausting pretending to like them.”

Lewis kissed the top of your head, his voice a little softer. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

You let out a long breath, feeling some of the weight lift. “I know,” you whispered. “Thank God for that.”

There was a brief moment of silence, the kind that lingered just long enough for Lewis to think you’d finally calmed down. Then you broke it with a frustrated huff.

“You know what I had to deal with today?” You asked, your voice rising with the exasperation that had been bubbling beneath the surface all evening. You didn’t wait for him to respond before launching into your story. “Two boys in my class—two—decided to break out into song right in the middle of my lesson.”

You paused for effect, locking eyes with him to emphasize the absurdity of it all. Lewis raised an eyebrow, already bracing himself for the punchline.

“And they wouldn’t shut the hell up, mate,” you finished with a dramatic flourish, throwing your hands up in frustration.

He let out a low chuckle, trying to keep a straight face. “What were they even singing?”

You groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. “Something ridiculous. Some TikTok trend or whatever, something about being on a screen and then a ring... Doesn’t matter, though—they were so off-key I couldn’t even tell what it was supposed to be.”

Lewis shook his head, biting back a smile. “And let me guess, they thought they were absolutely killing it?”

You shot him a look. “Oh, of course. They were acting like they were auditioning for a Broadway show. Hand gestures, facial expressions, the works. Like, I was just waiting for them to ask for a standing ovation.”

Lewis laughed outright at that, the sound of it making you feel a little less annoyed, though you’d never admit it. “And what did you do? Join in?”

You gave him a deadpan stare. “I kicked them both out of class.”

He snorted, covering his mouth to hide his amusement. “Classic. Just no patience left today, huh?”

“None.” You sighed, leaning back and closing your eyes, allowing yourself to relax for the first time all day. “Zero tolerance for teenage karaoke. I just wanted to get through my lesson without a circus.”

“Well, Mrs. Hamilton,” Lewis teased, emphasizing your formal title with an exaggeratedly prim tone. “I’m sure you handled it all with grace and professionalism.”

You let out a scoff, shooting him a sideways glance. “Yeah, if ‘grace and professionalism’ means nearly chucking a whiteboard marker at them, then sure.”

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sure you’re everyone’s favorite teacher,” he added, a grin tugging at his lips.

You snorted, throwing your head back against the couch dramatically. “Oh yeah, I can just feel the love. Nothing says ‘favorite teacher’ like the daily chorus of, ‘Can we go home early?’ or ‘Miss, this is so boring.’”

“They only say that because they can’t handle your brilliance,” Lewis quipped, giving you a knowing look. “You’re too much for their fragile little minds.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m just intellectually overwhelming,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes. “How could they ever appreciate my passion for algebra?”

Lewis burst out laughing, pulling you closer. “Exactly. They don’t even realize they’re sitting in the presence of greatness. Legends are never appreciated in their time.”

“Legend? Please,” you said, swatting him lightly. “If anything, I’m the stuff of nightmares. The teacher who ruined their dreams of becoming TikTok stars.”

“Hey, at least you’re memorable!” Lewis smirked, leaning in a little closer. “In 20 years, they’ll be telling their kids about the time Mrs. Hamilton shut down their music career before it even began.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Fantastic. I’ll be a cautionary tale.”

“Better than being forgotten,” he teased, raising his eyebrows. “Plus, you’re probably giving them some quality meme material. They’ll thank you later.”

You shot him an amused glare. “Oh, so that’s my legacy now? Being the ‘meme teacher’?”

“Hey, memes are forever,” Lewis said with a mischievous grin. “That’s practically immortal in today’s world.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous logic. “I hate that you’re kind of right.”

Lewis leaned back, smug. “I’m always right.”

“You were just confused about slang 10 minutes ago,” you pointed out.

“Details, details,” he waved a hand dismissively. “The important thing is, your students secretly adore you. And if not, well…” He shrugged. “At least you’ve still got me.”

“Lucky me,” you muttered playfully, sinking back into his arms with a contented sigh.

“Hey, not everyone is in the presence of a seven-time Formula One World Champion!” Lewis shot back, puffing out his chest dramatically and poking your cheek for emphasis.

You groaned, shoving his hand away with a playful glare. “Your ego is huge, Lew. Like, it barely fits in this apartment.”

He smirked, unbothered. “What can I say? It’s all part of the package.”

“Oh, is that what it is? A package?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Well, I hope it comes with a refund policy because this ego is too much.”

Lewis laughed, pretending to think for a moment. “Nah, sorry, no returns. You’re stuck with me—and the ego. Non-refundable, no exchanges.”

You sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes. “Great. Just what I wanted. A husband and his oversized confidence.”

“Hey,” he said, feigning offense. “It’s not confidence. It’s facts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Right. ‘Facts.’ I swear, if you had an award for every time you talked about your seven championships, we’d need a separate room just for the trophies.”

Lewis grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Funny you mention that. I was just thinking we could clear out the guest room and—”

“No,” you interrupted, giving him a playful shove. “Not happening.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “Fine, fine. But you can’t blame me for being proud. You did marry a legend, after all.”

You snorted. “A legend with an ego the size of a racetrack.”

“Hey, you’re the one who chose this life,” he teased, kissing the top of your head. “No refunds, remember?”

You sighed, leaning into him with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I’ll just have to live with it.”

“Sooo,” Lewis started, drawing the word out with that familiar grin you knew meant trouble. “Ever think of wanting… kids together?”

You blinked, then slowly turned to face him, squinting suspiciously. “Kids? Together? Us?”

Lewis grinned wider, leaning in. “Yeah, you know—tiny humans that look like us, say funny things, and maybe, just maybe, follow in my footsteps. Mini-Hamiltons.” He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically, clearly enjoying the moment.

You raised a hand to stop him. “First of all, you’ve clearly forgotten the part where I just said I hate kids. Secondly, tiny humans that are half you? Lewis, I barely manage one of you.”

He laughed, completely unfazed. “Come on, you love me. Imagine—little curly-haired kids running around, making you laugh, driving you crazy. It’s the dream.”

You snorted. “The nightmare, you mean. I already have to keep your ego in check. Now you want me to manage a whole pack of baby egos that think they’re Formula One drivers straight out of the womb?”

“Exactly,” Lewis teased, poking your side. “Imagine—little racers, pulling wheelies on their tricycles, practicing pit stops with toy cars. We’d be unstoppable.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “No. Absolutely not. I already see it—them racing in the house, breaking things, you teaching them how to do donuts in the living room.”

Lewis gave a mock shrug. “Well, they’d have to learn from the best, right? Legacy, babe. It’s all about legacy.”

You buried your face in your hands, laughing in disbelief. “A legacy of destruction. Fantastic. Let me just call the furniture store now and order everything in crash-proof material.”

Lewis leaned in closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “Okay, but imagine this: family go-kart days, mini helmets with Hamilton written across the back, and you as the team principal. We’d be unstoppable.”

“Team principal?” you deadpanned, lifting your head from your hands. “Lewis, if I’m in charge, the first thing I’m doing is banning anything with wheels in this house.”

Lewis burst out laughing, pulling you into a hug. “Alright, alright, no go-karts in the living room… yet. But seriously, can’t you see it? You’d be an amazing mom.”

You paused, softening a bit as you looked up at him. “I don’t know, Lew. I mean, if our kids inherit your energy, we might need to hire a whole pit crew just to keep up with them.”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “That’s what makes it exciting. We’d make a great team.”

You sighed, half in amusement, half in surrender. “We’ll see. For now, let’s focus on surviving you, okay?”

“Deal,” Lewis said, laughing as he held you close. “But I’m telling you, one day, we’re gonna need matching family race suits.”

You groaned, but smiled. “God help me.”

-fin-

PLEASE SEND REQUESTSSSSSS IM BEGGING OMFGGG I'M FINALLY A LITTLE BIT FREE

[chunniwritesalot]

please take this post as a thank you beyoncé 🙏 i couldn’t of done this without you 😰

[chunniwritesalot]

You scream red flag lmao and your writing sucks.

wow i love how positive my fans are 😍

[chunniwritesalot]

in the end - f1 grid x reader

hiii!! just a little blurb, no specific driver, just some rage i guess

cw: cursing, angst

wc: 442

"Box, confirm? Y/N," Your engineer's voice cracked over the team radio.

You nearly slammed on the brakes when those cursed words hit your ears. Nearly veered into the barrier because of them.

There was no need to box. Your car was fine, everything was fine. You were holding P4 with five laps to go.

"I'm not boxing," you shot back, ignoring how the media would spin your tone as ungrateful. "Turn off the fucking radio."

You couldn't comprehend why Aston Martin had signed you, given you a solid contract and competitive car, only to seem like they wanted you to fail. It didn’t make sense—why was it so hard for your team to get you good results?

No, that was a lie. You knew exactly why. It was because you were a woman, and for some twisted reason, no one wanted to see you succeed. They didn’t want you to have a strong season, so they could justify kicking you out. End your Formula 1 career before it could truly take off.

All because you were a woman.

You’d sacrificed too much, given up too many years, and bled too hard to not fight for a podium. You pushed the limits of your AMR23, ignoring the nagging voice of your race engineer.

God, the tires were shot. But somehow, you found yourself ahead of Oscar, finally in P3.

This was the pinnacle of your career: P3 in an Aston Martin—no, your Aston Martin, with no help from anyone. The static-filled voice of your engineer said something you didn’t catch.

But you didn’t care. You were going to do this without any more help.

You pushed harder, the car skimming the edge of control as you battled Lewis' Mercedes, and then—there it was. Max's Red Bull in your sights.

And you did it.

P1.

The celebration wasn’t as ‘epic’ as you had pictured it. Pulling into the P1 spot, unbuckling, and pushing yourself out of the cockpit, you were met with the bare minimum—your team barely acknowledging the achievement.

But it didn’t matter. You did it. Alone. Without anyone’s support.

After pulling off your helmet and balaclava, you made your way through the post-race chaos, standing in front of the crowd. Yet, it was obvious—they could hardly care less about you. Their eyes were on the other drivers.

What a fucking joke.

Until you felt a hand on your back. Then another. Before long, you were surrounded by your fellow drivers. They cheered, patting your back as you stood there, still trying to process it all.

In that moment, they were proud of you. And maybe, just maybe, that was all that mattered.

--

requests are always open :)

[chunniwritesalot]

ok this is just a quick little rant but i was at the mall today and tell me why nothing fit me?? im an xs and i swear xs is not the same as it was like 2 years ago, like everything is WAYYY larger. not to mention im like tall (5'11) and all my clothes are so incredibly loose and SHORT on me. i know obviously a lot of people have it worse than me, but still its so annoying that i have to special order like basic tops that are so FUCKING expensive!

anyways im writing a fic thats inspired by my life currently so stay tuned

[chunniwritesalot]

WHEN WILL HE ASK ME OUT

[chunniwritesalot]

jaehyun military announcement and then daniel leaving what the hell